


Tattoo You

by rightonmybins



Series: The Real Househusbands of Baker Street [12]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Domestic Life at 221B Baker Street, John just wants a lap dance, M/M, Sherlock striptease, You want a tattoo where?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 15:32:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13616322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rightonmybins/pseuds/rightonmybins
Summary: Sherlock wants a tattoo. Well, maybe he actually wants something else. John's not sure what he wants but it's all fine with him."You got me ticking gonna blow my topIf you start me upIf you start me up I'll never stop..."





	Tattoo You

“John, I want a tattoo.”  
“You what?!”  
“A tattoo.”  
“Sherlock, you're the vainest man I know,” John said, much amused. “No way you’d ever pollute that pristine body with ink.”  
“You have one.”  
“I was in the ARMY. We all had them. Male bonding and all that.”  
“Well, don't you think you and I should bond?”  
“We've already bonded this morning, in case that slipped your notice. Twice.”  
John raised the newspaper he was reading, hid his face and enjoyed a silent laugh.

“And furthermore, John, I think you should join me in this body-enhancement scheme,” Sherlock continued.  
“I’m happy with the one I have, ta.”  
“But we could get matching ones. Little taxicabs?”  
“What?”  
“Handcuffs?”  
John lowered the newspaper.  
“Sherlock...”  
“U.M.Q.R.A.?”  
“Shut up.”

“All right,” John said eventually. “So suppose you get a tattoo. Where would you put it?”  
“Same place as yours.”  
John huffed. “Perhaps that would work if your upper arms were more developed, but since the only workout they ever get is lifting a tea mug...”  
“Oh, and you're such a gym bunny,” Sherlock snorted.  
John threw down the newspaper, stood up and stripped off his shirt, displaying the regimental tattoo on his muscular right shoulder.  
“Now THAT is proper display for a tattoo,” he said, nodding smartly.  
Sherlock stripped off his silky shirt and displayed his creamy-white and woefully underdeveloped arms.  
John said, “And that is the reason no one ever sees you in short sleeves”.  
“John, short sleeves are not my area.”  
“So, no upper arm tattoo then.”  
“Small of the back?” Sherlock suggested.  
“Tramp stamp. No.”  
“Rib cage?”  
“Those ribs? Never.”

Sherlock fixed John with his serious stare and slowly unbuckled his belt, letting his fine Italian trousers drop to the floor.  
John fixed Sherlock with his own serious stare.  
“John?”  
“What.”  
“What about my thigh?”  
“Uh, what about your thigh...”  
“For a tattoo, John! What do you think?”  
“I think, er.... I don't know what I think...Oh! Well, perhaps...”  
Sherlock turned away and sinuously waggled his bottom at John.  
“John?  
“Those are new pants, aren't they.”  
“We're not talking about my pants! Focus, John!”  
“Oh I am... Oh!”  
Sherlock pulled up one side of the new pants, revealing his surprisingly muscular gluteus maximus.  
“Don't you think...”  
John babbled something or other.  
“Or…!” Sherlock swiveled around to the front again and pulled down one side of the new pants, revealing the tender flesh of his groin.  
“Right here might be nice,” he said, peering down his front. “Discreet, yet visible to the right person...well, perhaps I ought to have that area waxed.”  
Silence.  
“John?”

“Sherlock…come over here this instant and I will give you one tattoo you will never ever forget.”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "Start Me Up" from the Rolling Stones' album "Tattoo You".


End file.
